Come What May
by Luckyiris
Summary: Unknown to her new classmates Isolde Smith has a dark ominous past.Forks may have seemed the safest hiding place, but she had not calculated the Cullens into the equation.What could be as dangerous as staying in a town inhabited by a coven of vampires.
1. Chapter 1

I knew I was alive, but the fact that my heart was still beating did not offer me any comfort. The numb that had infected my body would not hold forever. All I wanted was to slip into the peaceful eternal slumber that had so cruelly encased everyone I ever loved. The truth is I was like poison; everything I touched turned to dust. My hands will never be washed of the dried blood that stains them.

A new beginning, new country, new friends, new home; but unfortunately no new body or heart. It was my first day at the strange new school. I deemed Forks the perfect place to settle. The weather was similar to the temperamental climate I was accustomed to at home.

My mother had always joked when I was a child that the sky above Ireland was always unhappy, that it always cried and brought us daily downpours of rain. She said that the sun only shined when the sky saw my smile. If this were true the population of Ireland would never see another day where the sunlight tickled the lush green pastures where the animals grazed, or see the millions of crystals glisten upon the lakes and rivers dotted between the rolling hills. For I will never smile or be happy again; like the sky my tears will always flow.

Another thing that attracted me to Forks was that it had a small population. Surrounded by forests, it was slightly isolated from the rest of the world. It would be easy to retreat to the thick dark vast growth of the woods if I needed to hide. Forks was the last place anyone would consider searching for me. Trust me, that was a good thing.

I noted how my car stood out as I skillfully backed my midnight-blue Volkswagen GTI into a vacant space in the half-full school parking lot. I couldn't deny my love for speed; nothing compared to the adrenaline rush of speeding on narrow roads.

At home a car like this may have been seen as a normal car; but here it was obvious old cars and trucks were more common. It was quite humorous that any one of the old vehicles in this lot would have stuck out in my homeland, just as my car was odd here. So far I had found small town America void of the trendy consumerism of Europe, I always loved clothes but I never considered myself the height of fashion. Here, however, my clothes screamed the latest style and gave me away as a foreigner, and made it harder to be inconspicuous.

As I stepped out of the car, I pulled my collar and scarf tighter around my neck to stop the thick droplets of rain trickling down my back. My anxious dark brown eyes peered out from under the brim of my red hat.

"A new beginning," I whispered as I straightened my back and ignored the melodic rhythm of my thumping heart.


	2. Chapter 2

The principal's door opened with a low squeak before she invited me in. Her face had a broad smile and although she did not appear to be older than forty, I could see small lines in the thin gaunt face and grey strands in her hair.

"Welcome to Forks High School, we are pleased to have you here. I'm sure you will settle in within a few days," she recited in an almost believable voice.

Next came the overused phrases of concern and understanding of the daunting task of starting in a new school. "I am always here to help," she said, and I could feel my eyes dying to roll out of my head. I, however, kept a straight face and smiled politely. I could see through her; I knew she couldn't care less whether I was there or not. I wasn't naïve. I had a knack for judging people and being able to tell if they were genuine or not. Pity. Unfortunately, I had learned this lesson the hard way.

The principal handed me my timetable and led me to my first class, History. She knocked on the door before entering a dull classroom with no more than twenty students present. The walls were painted a boring white and an odd assortment of posters littered the walls. She introduced me to my new teacher, a young, enthusiastic man named Mr. Gripes. I couldn't help but cringe at the absurdity of his name. It instantly concocted lurid images in my mind of an old perverted teacher with a habit of groping and ogling students. I just hoped that in future years he would not grow into that disgusting image. The principal soon left, leaving me at the mercy of Mr. Gripes. I stood anxiously at the front of the classroom avoiding eye contact with my new peers.

"I would like to introduce you to Isolde Smith, who has moved here from Ireland." He turned and continued, "I would like to wish you the best of luck here at Forks."

He showed me to a seat at the front of the classroom and I felt forty eyes bear into my back. I could feel them taking stock of my vibrant red beret. I did not remove it because I did not want people to see my dark brown curly hair that had skillfully been tucked up into the hat. All that was exposed was my straightened side fringe and a few loose wisps to frame my face. I hated my appearance. It's not that I was ugly. In fact, it was quite the opposite. My pale complexion, rose red lips, dark hair and slim figure were striking and had gotten me a lot of attention in the past for all the wrong reasons. I hated the fact I looked like her. All I wanted was to be invisible and not to be found. The colour rose in my cheeks, and I looked down at my new book as I heard the curious whispers of my new classmates drown the silence.

Throughout the morning I struggled to understand the unfamiliar accents of the teachers. I made no effort to make friends. I was happier to avoid the inevitable bombardment of questions that I would receive. I had my story perfectly concocted. If anyone inquired about my past I would say my parents had died in a car accident, and I had come to live with my aunt who worked in Seattle. My aunt, unfortunately, had a very important job and spent a lot of time away on business trips. None of this is true. I had found that money can indeed buy you anything, including nonexistent relatives. Many people wouldn't believe how I was able to fabricate an aunt. My aunt, Amy Clarke, now had a birth certificate, passport and bank account. I even secured a little isolated cottage about a mile outside Forks in her name.

EPOV:

The whispers were exceedingly annoying today. Everyone was talking about the new Irish girl. I could already see the sick perverted fantasies of every boy in the school as they imagined being with her. The funny thing was that not one of the minds that I had been trying to block out had gotten a clear view of the girl, only glimpses from afar during class.

"So what are the imbeciles thinking today?" Emmett whispered with a cheesy grin as we bought our lunch. He was clearly amused with the grim scowl that plastered my face as image after image of sexual fantasies bombarded my head.

"New girl," I replied and Emmett nodded, guessing what I meant. As my family and I made our way towards our usual bench I noticed someone already seated. With no other empty tables available we continued toward it. It was unusual for anyone to sit at our table. It WAS an unspoken rule that the table was ours. We sat down at the table with her. Alice and Jasper sat on the bench beside her while Emmett, Rosalie and I sat opposite them. Isolde, as I heard her called in the minds of the other students, had earphones in her ears and was busy sketching in a notepad. Her half finished plate of chips and pizza lay beside her. Her notepad was tilted up towards her so I could not see what she was drawing. Her face was bent forward, obscuring her features. My brothers and sisters were curious about her too. We all wondered why she had not made friends and why she was sitting alone.

"What is she thinking?" Alice whispered across the table. I blocked everyone else's thoughts out and concentrated on hers. It was like she didn't exist. I couldn't hear anything, like being met by an invisible wall. Never before had I not been able to hear a person's thoughts. I stared at her, perplexed.

"Well?" Emmett pushed.

"I…I can't hear her," I replied, shocked at my own discovery. Gasps erupted from my siblings as they too realised this had never happened before. The girl continued to draw, oblivious to our presence. With our heightened sense of hearing we could hear clearly the lyrics of the song "The Pretender" coming from her iPod.

"_What if I say I'm not like the others?_

_What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?_

_You're the pretender_

_What if I say I will never surrender?"_

Then as if sensing our presence she looked up. I was struck to find that she was very attractive. She had a small heart shaped face and her porcelain skin was so pale it rivalled that of my siblings. Her petite nose led to full, plump, ruby-red lips. Her eyes were a very dark shade of brown- almost black - and were framed by dark, long eyelashes and perfectly groomed dark eyebrows. Her lips and eyes offered a beautiful contrast of colour to her pale clear skin. Sitting directly across from me her eyes greeted me first. Slowly they travelled from my navy cashmere jumper to my face. She made a small gasp too silent for the surrounding humans to hear. Her startled eyes widened. They darted and took in the presence of Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper and Alice. Her body went rigid. I could hear Jasper's analysis of her emotions in his mind: extreme fear and recognition. Her heart pumped at an unnatural rate, but still failed to drive the blood to her face, which had blanched to a ghostly white. Her plump lips parted, revealing rows of sparkling white perfect teeth and like the sigh of the wind she whispered, "No."


	3. Chapter 3

The lunch bell rang through the shrill silence of my mind. Startled out of my trance, I made my way toward the cafeteria. It was quite big. The walls mirrored the cold, dirty white paint that was to be found throughout the school. A normal person wouldn't have given this much thought, dismissing the flaking paint as a need for a touch-up. To me, however, white represented purity and goodness, and the slow decline of the paint into a decrepit, sinister, dull colour showed how we cannot stop fate taking its course; we all get tainted over time. Even if a new coat was added, it would act as just that, a coat, hiding the imperfect truth underneath.

I quickly made my way through the lunch queue, buying a portion of pizza and chips. I spotted a lone table in a corner, slightly away from the rest of the students. To my delight, it was unoccupied. I walked toward it, the small heels of my black suede pixie boots clicking against the tiled floor. Placing my earphones in my ears, I blocked out reality. Music had become my source of comfort. When I listened to the words of a song that I felt referred to my life, it made me feel closer to the composer. In the few precious minutes the song lasted, it was as if I was not alone, that someone else had experienced the isolation that had smothered my life.

I opened my sketch pad and soon became engrossed in drawing. An image of a lone girl standing facing three mirrors started to form. The first mirror reflected a small child with a bright smile spread across her face, bows and ringlets blowing softly in the wind. The next mirror was slightly blurred, but the small child had grown and now stood as a young teen. Her smile was not as carefree as the last - it was tight lipped and did not reach the girl's eyes. The words of my favorite song pulsed through my head. This song that spoke of hidden secrets and danger, seemed to describe my life. As the faithful sentence, "I will never surrender," entered my ears, I smelled it.

A gust of air from the open window across the cafeteria carried the sweet scent towards me. That scent, so mesmerising and delicious, that it tickled all your senses - a familiar scent that I had hoped never to encounter again. I stopped shading in the third mirror, which was complete sheer darkness.

I raised my head looking for its source. My eyes travelled up a blue pullover taking in the faint outline of a muscular chest. Then I saw his face. Sheer immortal perfection: milk-white skin and strong, prominent, high cheekbones. His copper-coloured hair was a messy ensemble, and yet he managed to look like a model advertising shockwaves. What surprised me the most were his eyes that were a light warm honeycomb heaven, deep and inviting. Underneath were purplish bruises that many naive people would attribute to insomnia; however, I was quite aware that this sleep deprivation was more permanent.

I glanced around quickly for a route of escape, but was stopped in my tracks as my eyes met four more sets of hazardous amber eyes. Possibly the most beautiful person in the world sat across from me, her soft hair cascaded down her back a mixture of gold natural highlights. She was the type of girl who was the envy of everyone. Beside her sat a huge muscular boy with short brown hair. Of all of them, he looked the most powerful; no amount of steroids could get you that buff. Despite his intimidating exterior, there was a twinkle in his eye that suggested that he wasn't at all as serious as he looked. The other boy had blonde hair and, like the other two, was extremely handsome. Muscles could be seen outlined through his black sweater. Of all of them, I sensed him to be the most dangerous. His body was positioned to strike at a moment's notice. The last member of the group was a small girl with black hair styled in a pixie cut. I did not underestimate her though; I knew she was probably every bit as strong as the others. They all stared at me. I couldn't understand it, their eyes were not the crimson velvet of usual vampires, but there was no doubt that that's what they were. Each of them had pale skin and dark shadows under their dazzling eyes.

I quickly scanned my brain for a way out of the treacherous situation. I knew I wouldn't get very far if I ran away from them at that point. Their speed would have them catch me in the empty corridors before I would make it outside. My only chance was to stay close to large groups of people at all times, and at the end of school escape to my car and leave. They would not risk exposure by attacking me in front of others. For the time being I had to pretend that I didn't know anything, which was hard since I had gasped and my heart was thudding close to a cardiac arrest. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. Slowly my heart returned to normal. I pulled my earphones out and placed them in my pocket. I went back to idly munching on the cold chips, ignoring the protests of my churning stomach. Although they were not staring at me anymore, I could tell they were monitoring every move I made. The tension was almost unbearable. The boy in the blue jumper was picking through his food with his fork but I could tell he wasn't paying it any attention.

I had never before heard of amber-eyed vampires. It just didn't add up. Why was a group of vampires going to school and how were they able to avoid the temptation of so many rich-blooded humans?

Suddenly I felt a hand grab my shoulder making me jump in my seat.

"HEY, I'M MIKE" shouted a blond boy standing to the side of my chair.

He sounded out the words obviously thinking I couldn't speak English. I was instantly annoyed at this idiot. There I was in a life-threatening situation and the so-called local player had just invited himself over and shouted into my ear.

"HI, I'M IRISH NOT DEAF," I replied, preferring to use his method of sounding out the words to see how he liked it. From across the table I heard a loud snort. I looked over to the beefy brown haired vampire to see an amused grin light his face. I resisted the urge to grin back.

"That's good to know. I presume even Irish people have names though?" he asked hiding his embarrassment.

"Isolde. Did you want something?" I asked praying he'd get the hint and move along.

"Just thought I'd come over and introduce myself," he trailed of in thought, before he bent down and whispered "Do you want to come over and sit at our table, instead of this freak show?" into my ear. I was well aware that the freak show he was referring to could hear him perfectly and personally, I wouldn't have minded if they ate him.

As incredibly inviting as his offer was to get away from them, I was curious. I knew that they wouldn't touch me in such a public place and I decided to use my time to observe them, see if I could get any information from their actions.

"No thanks. I'm fine," I insisted and turned around and ignored him. Luckily, he got the message and walked away.

With nothing to do, I took out my schedule and examined it. With my sensitive hearing, I could hear an almost silent conversation going on around me that a normal person would fail to hear; I couldn't make out the words though. If anything, it was extremely irritating and I had the urge to shout at them for being so rude. Thank god my sense of self preservation was good enough to keep my mouth shut. I looked up at the bronzed-haired beauty, I knew he would have to stop taking if I looked directly at him. His eyes met mine and they turned cold. I decided I might as well play the new student card.

"Hi, I'm Isolde," I said putting as much confidence into my voice as possible.

"Hmm." was all he murmured and my blood boiled. I had a few choice words that I felt like throwing at him but I resisted.

"We would appreciate it if you didn't take our table from us in future, you should find somewhere else to sit," came the icy voice of the immaculate blond girl.

"Rosalie, don't be so rude," began the black-haired vampire sitting beside me.

"Well, it's not as if we should mislead her into thinking we want her here," the girl called Rosalie continued.

"Bite me. Or on second thought, don't. I'm sure Irish cuisine wouldn't suit you," I barked, and gave her a threatening glare of my own. This time, it was their turn to gasp. All their eyes were set on me, now they knew that I knew. At that moment, the bell rang and I quickly gathered my stuff, avoiding their eyes, and rushed from the cafeteria.

Four Months Previous:

The golden leaves of autumn waltzed and twirled through the air carried by the strong breeze, the faint sunrays catching the golden threads that ran through the burgundy leaves. It led the way for a young boy no more than twelve who walked along the sidewalk. There was an element of confidence in his step, his hair gelled into a stylish mess of hackles. It was obvious he thought he was invincible.

He greedily tucked a crisp twenty euro note into his pocket, a generous gift from the stranger for such an easy task. The boy walked towards a group of school girls about to board a bus, their long yellow, green and red tartan skirts billowing in the wind. The crowd thinned as the teenagers started to fill onto the bus. The boy walked up to a girl about to get on the white coach and put his hand lightly on her shoulder. She turned, her long hazel ringlets fanning out behind her as the breeze ripped through it. She smiled a little confused at the boy. Then he handed it to her, a single black rose. Her dark brown eyes grew wide as comprehension dawned on her face, if possible, her porcelain skin grew even paler as her head shot up and found the eyes of a man that stood three yards down the sidewalk from her. Dark thirsty eyes smiled back at her, a malicious smile lit the god's face.

The rest of the world was oblivious to this small interaction as they carried on with their own busy lives. Then, the stranger disappeared leaving the young woman with a promise, conveyed through the thorny sinister rose in her hand. A promise of death.

Such a picture of perfection as the beautiful girl stood with her hair wildly tossing through the air. The faint evening sun captured a glistening tear as it descended down her cheek.

Awoken from her reverie by the calls of her classmates, she ascended the steps into the bus and masked her face with a blinding smile to the oblivious girls. She sat down at a window seat and placed her cheek against the windowpane. Her face contorted into utter and total despair as the bus moved away from the sidewalk.

Present Day:

What had I done? This was not good. I definitely had secured my death warrant. Humans were not allowed to know about the existence of vampires. The unfortunate ones who found out were killed. Apart from that, I had drawn unwanted attention to myself. They were going to come after me now for certain. I always had a problem with my temper and was known to say things without thinking, but I couldn't just let the bimbo walk all over me.

I walked into English and took an empty seat at the back of the room. I watched as the class filled in. I nearly groaned aloud when I locked eyes with none other than bronze haired beauty. He started towards my desk and I instantly figured out he was planning on sitting beside me. I quickly lifted my bag to put it on the empty seat, but it was too late; he had already pulled the seat out.

"Sorry, that seats taken." I said harshly.

"Actually, this is my seat," he replied smugly. I was struck. I never thought of their being a seating plan, but I could use this to my advantage.

"Well then, I better ask the teacher where he wants me to sit," I muttered through gritted teeth starting to get up.

"Don't bother. This is the only empty seat," he said. I sat down and stared at the front of the room. I could feel his gaze burning my face but I refused to look at him. To tell the truth, I was terrified of him and his coven, but I tried to hide it under a confident tough exterior.

I saw him scribble a note on a piece of paper and pass it across to me, but I ignored it and focused on the teacher as he started discussing the play "Macbeth". I was definitely not going to read his note, because it would hold a question I knew I was not prepared to answer.

Edwards P.O.V

We had our suspicions that she knew we were vampires when she gasped at us, but then she didn't try and run, she didn't scream and her pulse slowly returned to normal. We were a little on edge, though. Alice was trying furiously to see her in the future but she couldn't find anything.

Unknown to her, the topic of every conversation was why she was sitting with us. I spotted Mike Newton as he started towards our table, brimming over with confidence that Isolde would not be able to resist his charm, already imagining their first date. She was obviously more tense than we realised, because the moment he put his hand on her shoulder she jumped in her seat. The first mistake he made was assuming she didn't speak English without doing research. I would be surprised if Newton could even find Ireland on a map. Actually, he couldn't, considering he thought Ireland was in Russia.

The second mistake was shouting his slowed down sentence in her ear.

"HI, I'M IRISH NOT DEAF," flowed from her mouth in a thick Irish brogue. It was quite funny seeing Newton brought down from his pedestal. Her statement amused us all. She and Emmett shared the same wit, and he actually snorted when she spoke. As Mike continued to try to salvage his reputation, she blatantly all but gave him the cold shoulder. He then had the nerve to call us freaks and ask her to sit at his table. If only he knew that any one of us could kill him with our eyes shut. Isolde surprised me again when she refused his invitation, even though she was uncomfortable with us.

_I like this girl already,_ Emmett thought.

"Do you think she knows?" I whispered to Jasper.

"I don't know. She's very uneasy, but I think it's just the normal human reaction," he answered.

"We should tell her to get lost," Rosalie hissed.

"Rose, it's her first day. Give her a break," Alice joined in.

"I'll be subtle, don't worry," Rosalie grinned.

As I was about to tell Rosalie how subtle was one thing she was incapable of being, Isolde looked at me. I don't know why, but she kind of grated on me. This girl needed to know that we weren't people she should be friends with. I hardened my face and gave her a cold stare. Ignoring my glower, she confidently introduced herself.

"Hmm," I replied, trying to act un-phased by her introduction.

A slight blush grew daintily up her cheeks and her face hardened. Rosalie choose this moment as the perfect opportunity to show just how subtle she could be, which meant she pretty much told her to eff off. We were not prepared for what came next.

"Bite me. Or on second thought, don't. I'm sure Irish cuisine wouldn't suit you," she snarled, seething with anger.

For once every member of my family's minds were blank with shock. Before we could say anything, the bell rang and Isolde had risen and darted out the door.

"What are we going to do? How did she...? We are going to have to leave," Emmett said anxiously.

"Call Carlisle - see what he says," Alice suggested.

When I phoned Carlisle, he told us not to harm her - to wait until after school and bring her home with us so that we could talk to her. In the mean time, he advised us to keep an eye on her.

As if by fate, when I walked in the door none other than Isolde Smith was sitting in the empty seat at my desk. She made a scurry to put her backpack on the seat to stop me from sitting down, but I was too quick for her. A small smirk tugged the corners of my mouth as she attempted to get away from me, but she soon realised that she had the only available seat in the room and was stuck with me. Her posture was stiff as she sat down and kept her eyes on the teacher. I quickly tore a piece of paper out of my notepad and wrote her an invitation to come to our house after school. Don't get me wrong, she was going whether she wanted to or not; I was just being polite. She vehemently refused to read the note. I kicked the leg of her chair too hard, trying to get her attention, and she fell onto the ground before I could catch her. I slipped the note off the table and into my pocket before anyone could see it. The beret that had covered her hair fell off and her hair fell in soft ringlets around her face on the floor. The class erupted with laughter, though many of the boy's jaws were unhinged by her beauty. Her face was scarlet and angry as she looked at me.

"What is going on here?" Mr. Banner inquired, annoyed at the disruption.

"Sorry sir. I dropped my pen and lost my balance when picking it up," she answered in her rhythmic accent before lifting herself up. I could now see why the boys in Forks were so taken by her. Her beauty matched that of any vampire. She stood around five-foot-five, with a petite figure. Her clothes were simple yet stylish. She wore a pair of black skinny jeans, black pixie boots and a white plain t-shirt with a long light grey cardigan. Her curly hair reached mid-back, mahogany mixed with lighter tones that I imagined would become more prominent in the sun. Her hair framed her symmetrical face and complemented her perfect features.

I was surprised she didn't get me into trouble with Mr. Banner. When she had cautiously sat back down in her chair, I apologized and thanked her for not snitching on me. She ignored me again and placed her beret in her bag before returning to looking at the teacher. The class passed in silence between the two of us, after that I didn't attempt to pass the note to her again. When the bell rang, I did not get a chance to say a word to her before Jessica Stanley had made her way over and started introducing herself. I left the classroom listening to the short answers she provided to the inquisition Jessica was giving her. I could feel Isolde's eyes following me the whole way out the door.

_No matter, _I thought only two more classes and she would have no choice but to talk to me.


	4. Chapter 4

I chose a deserted part of the locker room to change into my tracksuit. The last thing I needed was people staring at the scars and bruises that covered my stomach. To people around me, I may have seemed like a healthy teenager, but underneath my clothes was a body riddled with scars. I remembered reading how warriors in the past were proud of their battle scars because it showed what a great fighter they were. Their bravery was marked by permanent blemishes that flawed their skin, worn like medals of honour. I failed to see mine as anything other than an unwanted reminder of the past. Instead of feeling proud, I was disgusted by my ugly scars.

The most prominent was a deep wound that ran at an angle from my right hip to the centre of my stomach, stopping just under my ribs. I had stitched the wound myself, using nothing but a sewing needle and black thread. It had been a butch job, but even if it had been safe to go to a hospital, how would I have explained the damage? Ireland had no dangerous wildlife. And what about the absence of a guardian?

I had been happy that it was healing well; the pain had dulled considerably over the short time since I obtained it, and these days I was finding it easier to move without pain, although the area was still very tender. However, my good progress was stalled the minute Edward knocked me out of my chair in English. It was becoming increasingly difficult to walk without wincing in pain, thus you could imagine the hurdle gym presented.

I was placed on a team with Mike Newton and soon found I had another admirer in a guy called Eric. Basketball was the worst sport to play because it really pulled at my stitches. Mike and Eric seemed to be in competition to see who could show off the most for my sake, and soon it became a war as to who could keep possession of the ball.

Jessica, the girl that had bombarded me with questions at the end of English, decided to pass me the ball. She had insisted on showing me to gym. Of course, I knew why she talked to me. I was the new shiny toy that everyone wanted, and by associating with me she got attention. As the ball flew through the air Eric stood in front of me to catch it. Unfortunately, Mike did, too. I watched in shock as they collided and lost balance.

As they fell, they took me down with them. Mike went crashing down into my wound. Pain instantly shot up through my side. It felt like I was being scorched with a poker. My breath hitched in my throat and my eyes went fuzzy. I could feel hot liquid flowing smoothly across my abdomen. Thankful for my black hoodie to disguise the blood, I got up slowly.

"Are you ok, Isolde? I'm so sorry," Mike said, rubbing his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied, biting my lip to stop myself from screaming in agony.

"Sir, do you mind if I get a bit of air? I feel dizzy," I questioned Mr. Williams as he examined Mike's shoulder. I knew Mike was probably just looking for attention.

"Yes, sure, go ahead," Mr. Williams answered quickly, not even glancing up at me.

I made my way to the locker room and leaned against a locker as I looked down at my hoodie. A stain was starting to spread across the dark fabric. I lifted it slowly to inspect the damage. Blood was pouring out of the gash and all the stitches had been ripped open. The pain was getting worse. I needed a hospital; I would not be able to fix this myself. Grabbing the remainder of my clothes, I hobbled out of the changing rooms and out the door. The more I walked, the dizzier I felt as I was losing so much blood.

When I got to my car I collapsed into the driver's seat. Quickly starting the car, I made my way out onto the road. Black spots were beginning to blur my vision and the blood was now flowing down my legs. It was at least a twenty minute drive to the hospital and after only five, I knew I would not make it. I spotted a track leading into the forest to my right and pulled into it, driving far enough that the car wouldn't be visible from the road.

As pain engulfed me and weakness took over, I replayed happy moments of my life, things that should have been. As I finally let the darkness take over, my memories were of a crisp, snowy Christmas morning ten years previous as my brother and I opened presents, smiling and laughing with our proud parents.

Edwards P.O.V:

My last class of the day was agonisingly slow. I listened to my siblings' thoughts as they mulled over the mysterious Isolde Smith. We were all anxious to get her home and find out the depth of her knowledge about us.

When the bell rang, we rushed out of our classes and met at the front door. We hadn't bothered with a plan. If she knew anything about vampires, she would not even try and cause a scene.

I examined the crowd, looking for the dark curls that had been imprinted in the mind of every boy in our English class. It was not hard to examine the crowd leaving the school as they moved at their slow monotonous human rate. We all became more frustrated as the crowd thinned and still there was no sign of Isolde. When the last of the cars and trucks left the parking lot, we realised she had gotten away.

"I don't understand. She couldn't have gotten by us," Alice insisted, not amused.

"She must have left earlier, before school ended," Jasper muttered, angered by her escape.

"We're just going to have to track her," I said, already walking around trying to catch her scent. I started walking through the parking lot until I found it. Every scent was unique. Hers smelled like wild flowers and grass; it was soft and floral, yet untamed. Suddenly, it got stronger the closer I got to one of the empty parking spaces. When I looked at the ground, I could see small dull specks of blood on the ground.

"Her blood," I stated, surprised and instantly my siblings were at my side. The closer I got to the space the heavier the droplets became.

"She was bleeding," Alice mumbled, her face confused, like the rest of us.

"She obviously left in a car. We may just follow the scent," Rosalie spoke, angry at being evaded by a human.

We left the car behind and, checking there was no one watching, took off into the forest along the road following Isolde's scent. The scent grew stronger and stronger until we knew she was nearby. We crept towards a navy car parked along a hunting trail. The smell of blood was strong, but the funny thing was that it didn't smell like food. It wasn't even the slightest bit tempting. I scanned the others' heads and found that none of them were struggling with bloodlust.

I made my way to the door of the car where I could see Isolde unconscious sitting in the driver's seat. I cautiously opened the door and I could see the blood gushing down her clothes. I gently lifted her out of the seat and laid her on the ground.

"Leave her. Let her die. This way, we won't have to kill her ourselves," Rosalie hissed coldheartedly.

"Could you be any more heartless?" I shouted, anger engulfing my mind.

"We should bring her to Carlisle as planned," Alice suggested, unimpressed by Rosalie's idea.

As Alice called Carlisle to tell him about Isolde, I lifted her delicate, warm body into my arms, her blood soaking my sweater. No longer was she the tough hard girl from earlier. Now she was weak, fragile and helpless.

I ran at full speed through the forest, and relief ran through me as I reached the white mansion where Carlisle was waiting at the door. I laid Isolde down on the dining room table and thought how, in other circumstances, I would have found it almost humorous that it contained food for once.

Carlisle ripped Isolde's blood-stained black hoodie up the middle, revealing a thin, blood-saturated white top. Gingerly lifting the hem, he slowly revealed a deep long gash running from her hip to her ribs. Her flat stomach looked as if it was painted red, it was covered in so much blood. The wound was pumping crimson wine. We all stood around as Carlisle got the necessary tools. I couldn't understand how even Jasper, the one who suffered the most with his control, could watch the defenseless girl bleeding and did not feel the need to drain her.

Her blood smelled rich, pure, almost as if it was more concentrated than normal blood. It baffled us all, and yet when Carlisle tested it to see what blood he would require to replace what was lost, he found it to be O-negative.

The remains of black thread could be seen in the wound, proving that this was not a fresh laceration. It also was strange, because doctors had special thread for stitching. This, however, was clearly not a professional job. Why didn't she visit the doctor, or a hospital? What this girl's problem was, was that she was stubborn, but the main question in my mind was how it had happened. Carlisle removed the black thread, a frown creasing his forehead.

"This was not done by a doctor. She's lucky she didn't get an infection! There is something very peculiar about this child, how exactly do you get an injury as serious as this and not seek medical help?"

Carlisle proceeded to stitch the wound himself at vampire speed. His hand wove the skin back together until a criss-cross effect could be seen across her abdomen. It was fascinating to see him at work and, in less than two minutes, he was finished.

Esme then began to wash the blood off Isolde's stomach. She gasped at what the first few strokes of the warm sponge revealed. My family and I looked in horror at the young girl's midriff. It was not the milky white the rest of her skin was. Instead it was a mixture of purple and mustard yellow bruises. If that was not enough, scars also littered her belly. It looked as though someone had hacked at her with a knife. It was obvious that there was a lot more to the new girl than we first thought.

Past Memory:

The wind howled and the leaves swirled through the forest, a symphony of branches swinging in the harsh wind emulsified with distant screams. My heart offered the tempo for this sick concerto as its beating grew into a crescendo. I ran, stumbling through the thick undergrowth as it clawed at my ankles and calves, trying to prolong my search, trying to protect me from what was waiting. With what little hope this cruel life left me, I prayed that I wasn't too late. Adrenaline rushed through me, giving me the strength to keep running.

Breaking into a small opening in the deep vast forest, I reached the object of the weak gasps and whimpers. The mangled woman that met my eyes broke my heart and I dropped to my knees beside the quaking body. Lying on her back facing the starry sky, the faint moonlight illuminated where flesh had been ripped up, her arms like fault lines that had cracked apart. As my eyes swept her body, my stomach convulsed at the horror before me. All her long strong nails had been torn out, leaving bleeding flesh in its place, red and raw. She was missing the finger where her wedding band and engagement ring had once been. Her left leg was positioned at an unnatural angle, and her right leg at unusual angle too, except the bone had broken through her skin and was jutting out. The letters R.I.P had been carved into her left forearm. The elixir of life seemed to have seeped out from the numerous wounds that had been sliced into her milk white skin, forming a thin blanket over her, as if to tuck her into bed, preparing her for an eternal slumber.

Her chin length, brown hair was matted with blood and dirt. Puffy, blood-shot brown eyes were focused on my face as she puffed shallow breaths. The soft wrinkles that had started to become more prominent on her forehead as she aged were creased in pain. How I wished they were crinkled with laughter. Crawling out of her mouth was a thread of blood.

"Mum," I breathed.

"Isolde," her weak voice whispered. We stared into each other's eyes, tears leaking from our identical pools.

"I love you, Isolde, with all my heart. This is not your fault. I will always be with you, I have faith in you... he thinks you're in Donegal. Save yourself... I'm dying... please end... the pain."

I gripped her cold hand.

"I'm frightened. I can't live without you. I'm tired of running. I can't do it."

"Do it for me," she coughed as the blood in her throat gurgled.

He had tortured her to find me. My brave mother had protected me until the end as he sadistically killed her slowly. He had ensured she would die a slow death from her wounds. This was her dying wish, and if this was the only thing I could do for her, I would do it. I rummaged through my bag until I found a knife. I knew it wouldn't protect me from him, but I carried it because it made me feel safe regardless.

I clasped my shaking hand tighter around hers as tears fell heavily down my face. She smiled weakly up at me, and I bent over to kiss her soft cheek gently.

"I love you Isolde, I'll always be with you," she said.

"I'm sorry...please forgive me...I...I...I love you."

With that, she nodded her head and closed her eyes. My trembling hands lifted the knife, the sharp blade glittered and reflected the bright stars. Positioning it above her chest, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. With a swift descent of my hand, I stabbed her through the heart. I howled in pain as I cradled her limp body in my arms. That night my mother, Caoimhe Smith, died, and she took my will to live with her. In the end, it was by my hands that my mother had died, and that is what made me, Isolde Smith the worst kind of killer.

_"Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome,__  
__And I don't feel right,_

_when you're gone, ___

_You've gone away,__  
__You don't feel me here anymore."_


	5. Chapter 5

My mind was a whirlwind of memories as I started to wake up. As the haze that covered my mind started to lift, my last memories of bleeding in my car came to the forefront. I kept my eyes closed, wondering if I was dead. Could death have been so easy? If I were, would I have gone to heaven or hell? Cautiously, I opened my eyes and squinted as they adjusted to the light. I took in the king-sized bed I lay in, tucked up in cream silk sheets. The room was big, decorated in contemporary colours of soft greens and coffee. White roses were neatly arranged in a crystal vase on an oak locker. Heavy, green satin curtains blocked out most of the sunlight, darkening the room. Well, I was certain I was alive, and I definitely wasn't in a hospital, but I had no idea where I was.

A noise outside my door swiftly got my attention. I could hear hushed voices as the handle started to turn but stopped mid way. I tensed as I recognised the voices.

"Alice, don't. You might wake her and she needs to sleep," came the deep velvet voice of the bronze-haired vampire I had met earlier.

"Edward, I promise, I won't. Why do you have to be so annoying? I'm just curious...it's driving me mad not being able to see her future!"

"You heard what Carlisle said; she needs rest. Wait until she wakes up." There was a note of finality in his voice, and after a sigh of frustration from the female, the voices faded away.

Relief flowed through me as the door handle was released, all the same it was short lived and it was soon replaced with terror as I realised that I was trapped in a house full of vampires. Lifting the duvet, I carefully sat up and looked down at the loose delicate cotton pyjamas that I had been changed into. I cringed as the sudden movement sent a pain through my midriff. I lifted the hem of the top and gently pulled it up, revealing my stomach covered in gauze and wading. I winced again as I moved my body and pulled down the top. The area was sensitive and sore. I lay back against the soft thick pillow, allowing my body to mould into the mattress. They had seen my scars and bruises. How would I explain them? I couldn't tell them the truth. How do you explain that you had a very close encounter with a sadistic vampire who was hunting you? How do you tell them that you have a death sentence, and no matter what you do you will die before your 18th birthday? I always felt that I was falling, and there was nothing anyone could do to save me. Pretty soon, I would hit the ground, and all would end.

I closed my eyes as I heard the door handle turn again, praying that whoever it was would go away so I could think. After counting three minutes in my head and not hearing a sound, I squinted through one eye. Staring down at me were two beautiful golden orbs set in the face of Edward Cullen. I opened my second eye and looked up at him.

"I thought I heard movement and came to check if you were awake," he said with a small smile playing on his lips.

"Hmmm," I huffed, thick that he had caught me out.

He continued to stare down at me as if debating whether to say something. His eyebrows furrowed. The opportunity to say what was on his mind was soon interrupted by a loud bellowing voice from the doorway. I looked up, startled by the sudden entrance of the big muscular vampire with the curly hair.

"Ah, Eddie, you woke her...what happened to letting her sleep?"

"Emmett, unlike when you and Alice wanted to come in, I knew she was awake," he said while squeezing the bridge of his nose with his eyes pressed shut in annoyance. It was quite humorous to see a vampire perform such a human trait.

"Hey little leprechaun, how are you feeling? Man that was some amount of blood you had squirting out of you Monday," Emmett asked, smiling down at me.

_Did he just call me a leprechaun! _My face went beet red and before I could give an angry retort, Edward spoke.

"Little Leprechaun? Where did that come from?" Edward snorted.

"Well, when I think of Irish people, I think of leprechauns, and she has luck."

_Argh...If I wasn't terrified of you and you weren't a million times stronger than me I'd beat your face!_

"Emmett, explain to me...what part of sitting in a car bleeding to death is lucky?"

"Oh, you know... the part where the gorgeous, irresistible, hot, muscle man that I am came to her rescue," Emmett replied, winking at me. "So, anyway, how are you?" Emmett pressed, still smirking.

"Fine," I replied, avoiding eye contact, _but I would be better if I wasn't in a house full of vampires!_

"Isolde, now that you're awake, the rest of the family is anxious to talk to you. Do you mind if they come in?" Edward asked.

"Okay." I knew it wasn't really a question, more of a warning. Five more vampires all entered the room, forming a line at the bottom of my bed. I was scared senseless at their presence, waiting for one of them to kill me. I felt as if this was my judgment day. A man who appeared older than the rest of the family, and yet only around the age of twenty-three, stepped forward with a benign smile.

"Hello, I'm Carlisle, this is my wife Esme," he said, squeezing the hand of a beautiful woman with caramel-coloured hair and a wide smile.

"Hello dear," she said, her friendly tone doing little to ease my nerves.

"I believe you have met the rest of my family briefly at school," he continued, and I couldn't help but feel that I would have preferred that brief encounter at school be our last.

"This is Alice." The small pixie like girl gave me an enthusiastic smile and a generous wave. She reminded me of a child who drank too much Coke.

"Jasper." The tall blond guy standing beside Alice nodded at me warily. His demeanor had changed from when I had seen him at school; he didn't look as... constipated.

"Rosalie." The gorgeous blonde female glared at me with arms crossed.

"And finally, Edward." Edward just looked at me as if trying to figure out a puzzle.

"From what my family has told me, I believe you know we are vampires."

I turned my head to the side, bypassing all eye-contact, and again my stupid heart sped up, giving away my true panic at the situation I was in. Silence cloaked the room and I realised I would have to reply.

"Yes," I said.

"Do you mind me asking how you know this?"

I considered many sarcastic answers such as the Easter Bunny told me or a vampire ate my dog. The truth was that a vampire was after me, and we had had a few too many encounters to not know what he was. I settled with a more believable answer.

"My Grandma was very superstitious; she believed lots of things. When I was growing up, she told me stories that she had been told as a child, myths about vampires. When she was in her twenties she saw her friend killed by one. She told me they were the most beautiful creatures. Their skin was the palest white imaginable, cold and hard as stone, their eyes blood red. Fast and powerful, they are invincible. Your children, though they do not have red eyes, are inhumanly beautiful. They do not eat, and for children who are not supposed to be related, they all have the same eye colour." _Well at least I told them the truth about my Grandmother...even if I did leave out a few details here and there. It's not really lying...more like sugar-coating the truth._

"Well, you have been well informed. All of that is true. You are correct about our eyes; they are golden because we do not follow the traditional diet of human blood. We hunt animals," Carlisle responded. "Yet, I do believe that there are many holes in your story. How is it that on first viewing, without even touching any of my family, you knew what we were?"

"Your smell," I said.

"Our smell?" Carlisle asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, my grandmother described how a vampire smells. It's intoxicatingly sweet like the most delicious perfume, and yet it is distinctive like incense. It's like blackcurrant and vanilla; strong and bold, but not strong enough to be heady like many perfumes. It's inviting and luring. Apart from smelling exactly like my grandmother described, the bruise-like bags under all your eyes are another giveaway."

All the Cullens looked slightly uncomfortable at my observation.

"Have you shared this information with anyone else?" Carlisle asked after a minute's silence.

"No, I am not stupid. I realize that it is not something to tell. I know that the existence of vampires couldn't have been kept secret for so long if people found out. What are you going t...to do with me?" I stuttered.

"Well, my conscience would not have me or any of my family kill you." While saying this, he glanced at Rosalie who had a livid expression on her face. "However, there are many of our kind that would. It is our law to kill or change humans that know our secret. I do not agree with this view, and we will not harm you, but be warned: do not tell anyone of this."

I nodded slightly, dumbfound that they weren't going to hurt me. Maybe I had misjudged them.

"If you don't mind, I would like to talk to you in private, Isolde," Carlisle said, softening his voice. I looked startled as Carlisle pulled up a slipper chair and sat down beside the bed. The family started to leave. Rosalie stormed out first, obviously angry that I was still alive. Alice gave me an eager smile and promised that we would be "the best of friends." Jasper nodded, Emmett said "Goodbye, leprechaun", Esme smiled, and Edward looked deep into my eyes as if trying to decode my mind again before a quick goodbye, leaving Carlisle and I alone. I had a feeling that this conversation would be centered on my cuts and bruises. The biggest excuse was yet to come. Only, I had yet to concoct it.


	6. Chapter 6

Months previous:

The bus station was crowded as I walked through the thick crowd; the hood on my green raincoat covering my head. I impatiently made my way towards the timetable prepared to take the first bus to Dublin Airport. On edge I jerked as people pushed into me passing by. I stood staring at the timetable making out the sea of bus numbers. Suddenly a cold hand wrapped around my upper arm and I could feel a cool breath blowing against my neck causing my hair to stand on end.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing alone in a place like this, who knows the dangers that lurk out there" a low menacing voice whispered in my ear; that voice that reminded me of nails on a chalk board.

"Well Isolde that's quite the chase you gave me, how about you be a good girl and come without a fuss, I'm sure you'd hate for anyone innocent to die". I was slightly shaking at this stage, tremors of fear and anger ran through my body. I turned and looked at the monster that haunted my every dream and step. He smiled evilly his cold burgundy eyes screamed victory, he had finally gotten what he wanted. Pulling me forward and placing his arm around my shoulder he led us towards the exit.

"Oh Islode smile, people might think you don't like me" he grinned his voice mocking me while squeezing my shoulder causing me to gasp in pain. Composing myself I plastered my face with a smile. To a passer-by we were the image of a perfect couple; young, beautiful and happy. There was a time that I believed we could have been too.

Outside he led me to a black Bentley Continental GT and opened the passenger door for me to get in. I hesitated for a moment looking around the quiet street. Sensing my hesitation he pushed me into the car slamming the door before walking at human pace to the driver's side.

The drive was made in silence, I stared out the window and I noticed we seemed to be heading into a more rural setting. We drove along small windy country lanes. After about an hour we pulled up to an old large two story farmhouse situated in a woodland area. The house was made from grey limestone and had many large windows. Old weather beaten shutters surrounded each window giving the house a antique feel.

"Beautiful isn't it? When I saw it I just had to have it. _Coincidentally_ the elderly owners died in suspicious circumstances a day later and when it came onto the market I bought it" he said a vicious smirk on his face. I felt sick as I imagined an old couple being slaughtered by him; his predatory pounce as he prepared to kill.

We entered the house through the sturdy mahogany front door; it's hinges creaking from age. We were greeted by a large hall with many doors leading of it. The walls were painted white and the floor seemed to be an original wooden floor that was in need of attention. A set of stairs were situated at the end of the long passage. Picking me up roughly he whizzed us up to the second floor and into a large bedroom with boarded up windows.

"Were going to have so much fun….but I better go hunt first…we don't want any accidents" he smacked his lips at me a wicked gleam in his eye. He let me down out of his arms and before I knew it the door had closed and there was the clink of a lock. I stared around the room. The walls were a dusty pink and an antique tavern bed lay against the back wall with no bedclothes. An old chest of drawers was stationed against the opposite wall covered in dust. Another door led of the room and I quickly ran to it opening it hoping for an exit, instead I found a bathroom. Cursing I turned around and quickly made my way to the drawers rooting through them for anything that could help me open the door. However they were all empty. Sinking to the ground I lay in the foetal position and cried myself to sleep.

"Ah your awake...good" he said as I opened my eyes everything was disorientated but soon his pale face came into focus over me. My eyes widened and I went to scoot backwards away from him.

"Now, now that's not very nice Isolde, I'm quite disappointed there was a time when you liked my company, however...you got my message" I instantly remembered the black rose I had been given on Grafton St. while boarding a bus about to go home from a school trip.

"What no thank you? I thought girls liked roses"

"Not black roses" I said through gritted teeth.

"Mummy didn't like that did she…how is your mother anyway" he said his voice jubilant.

"You bastard, you are no better than an animal the way you cut her up and left her to die". I spat in his face. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his jumper his smile fading into a thin line.

"My dear her pain will be nothing compared to what I have planned for you, when I'm done you will beg for death", He trailed a frosty finger down my cheek.

"I will never beg you" I whispered. He backhanded me across the cheek and I flew across the room banging into a wall. There was a crack and a pain ran through my ribs. Breathing heavily and pushing back the tears that scalded my eyes I pulled myself up of the floor.

"Has anyone ever told you you're too stubborn for your own good?" He whizzed across the room and was suddenly was standing inches away from my face.

"Boo" he whispered while squeezing my ribs between his fingers where I had been injured. I screamed in pain as there was another sickening crunch.

"Ooops" he said his cackling laugh filling the room.

Carlisle cleared his throat unnecessarily before starting to talk another human habit that could be added to the Cullen's list.

"Isolde what happened to you that you got all those injuries?

_"Think, think…car accident? No…he'll ask why I didn't go to a hospital….think…..think…._"

"Isolde…please I want to help did someone do this to you"

"I...I don't want to talk about it!"

"Isolde if someone did this to you, you need to tell me...I can help"

_"Bingo! Self inflicted, perfect!"_

"No one did this Carlisle"

"I don't understand...how did it happen then"

I shuffled back in the bed slightly, trying my best not to disturb my wounds. I tangled my hands together playing with my fingers; my hair falling down over my face obscuring my eyes.

"I...it...well...things got out of hand...the first time, it was an accident...I cut my hand on a knife...I cant explain the feeling, the pain blinded everything...and everything made sense" I rushed out quietly, as the story formed itself in my head, I was silently delighted with my excuse.

"You mean YOU did this to yourself…how...why" he said his voice full of pity and shock mixed with scepticism as he looked deep in thought.

"Do we have to talk about this now...I'm tired...please!" I replied trying to prolong the explanation.

"I'm sorry Isolde but my family have already made a great risk by keeping you alive, you owe us enough to fill in the gaps as to how and why you have ended up here. I know now is not the best time, but in order to move forward and plan what to do, we must know the truth.

"Ok" I whispered, playing with the hem of the sheets as I prayed that I could convince him.

"Well about a year ago my parents and brother died in a car accident...they were on their way home from visiting a relative, and the car skidded on ice and crashed into a tree killing them all. I had stayed at home because I had too much homework to do and told them to go without me. At first I was in shock, but soon after the funeral it all hit me and I couldn't handle the emotions…I went a little...wild.

I paused for a second, drawing it out as long as possible.

"Go on" he encouraged.

I sighed before continuing on with my story.

"First there was the alcohol, it started off with the odd night where i'd get absolutely hammered, until it became a regular thing to end up passed out in my bed with an empty vodka bottle. The friends I made at that time soon introduced me to the world drugs, and eventually I discovered cutting myself to be the cheapest and best high I could get...it was the only way I could deal with things". Carlisle seemed speechless as he processed what I had told him. He just stared at me with his golden eyes his face shocked that I could do such damage to myself.

"Where was your guardian, why didn't they help or stop you"

"Help!...haha my aunt Amelia didn't care, all she was interested in was the allowance she received from my parents estate for taking care of me"

Carlisle examined my face looking deep into my eyes as if trying to decide whether I was telling the truth. I stared straight back at him willing him to believe me. Trying to keep the lie hidden, I had become a pro when it came to the skill of convincing people of my lies. Sometimes the lines become blurred and I wonder does anyone know the real me anymore or after all this time, do I even know who I am.

"How did you get the bruises?" he said as if his voice was drained.

_"Crap…think…think!"_

"Well I kind of fell into trouble when I couldn't pay my dealer...things got out of hand one night. The wound that you had to stitch was caused when they beat up, they had a knife…. I was afraid to go to a hospital…to many questions, so I fixed it myself" tears started to tingle in my eyes as I started to think of what really happened. Before I knew it blobs me of tears were falling down my face as I grieved; grieved for my father, my brother and my mother, as I cried for what that monster had done to them and me, I cried for the fact that I was taking the blame for the physical damage that wracked my body and finally a million tears for the life that I should have had.

Soon I found myself encased in strong cold arms my head pressed against a stone chest as Carlisle tried to comfort me with lulling sounds. I just wept harder as I wished they were my mother or my father's arms. My sobs quietened after a while and a dull numb replacing the pain in my body, it was almost unnatural the calm that covered me. I slowly pulled myself away from Carlisle blushing as I noticed his wet shirt.

"Sorry" I murmured looking up into his face with my puffy eyes.

"Just one more question Isolde…have you stopped taking alcohol and drugs and the self harm?" I felt bad that I was misleading him but I couldn't tell him the truth.

"Yes, when my aunt here heard how my life was a mess she intervened and gave me the opportunity to come to Fprks for a new start...a new beginning" I said giving him a small smile.

"Ok, I'm happy that you are dealing with your problems, I think its best you stay here for a few days until you are able to take care of yourself. You have already been asleep for three days, you lost a lot of blood. Through the school we acquired your aunts number, we have contacted her and she seemed very concerned about you, she said she is in Paris on business, I told her to stay there that there was no need to come back, that I'd make sure you were ok. I have also informed the school that you will be out for another week because you are sick. We will talk more later, for now you need to sleep" Carlisle said before getting up, smiling at me and leaving the room.

I thought of how he had contacted my "aunt", Felicity wasn't my aunt, she was my mother's closest friend and the only person aware of my whereabouts. She had helped me get away from Ireland...get away from my hunter. She had put her life in danger by associating with me, thus meaning she was in hiding too. I had a contact number for her that I provided to anyone who wanted to contact my guardian and she posed as that.

Swiftly a wave of exhaustion ran through me and against my will my eyes drooped closed before I had a chance to ponder over my eventful interaction with the Cullen family.


End file.
